


you let the fire out

by notactuallybatman



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Ash isn't in this yet I'm sorry but he will be if I continue wheehee!!, Luke Is Confused, M/M, Neighbours, calum is hot, feeling u luke, mentions of graphic xbox playing, mildly crack-y, this is literal trash i'm so sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 20:45:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2825564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notactuallybatman/pseuds/notactuallybatman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Luke is confused by everything, Michael makes bad puns, Ashton is so done and Calum is a hot cheerleader. Literally.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you let the fire out

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Just Me, You, And This Box of Matches](https://archiveofourown.org/works/626568) by [tomlinsunshine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomlinsunshine/pseuds/tomlinsunshine). 



> Title taken from 'The Fire' by Kina Grannis.
> 
> Merry Christmas, [Hannah](http://hannilyrose.tumblr.com) xx

There’s a new neighbour in the building, and they may or may not be crazy.

The boxes are the first thing Luke notices. Although it should be said that ‘notice’ here translates to ‘trips over them face-first onto the floor as he steps into the hallway’. They are right there. In the hallway. And, Luke manages to make out as he finally gets a look past the cardboard right, left and directly in front of him (which is impressive seeing as he’s still lying flat on the really not very clean floor of their really not very fancy building), they’re also stacked up all the way along the stairs, leaving little space to walk or even carry grocery bags, which was coincidentally exactly what Luke was planning on doing. The universe hates him today. Who even owns that many fucking boxes? Crazy people, that’s who.

Luke takes a deep breath, two if you count the coughing fit that occurs after he swallows a mouthful of dust and dirt off the floor, and gets up, scrambling around for his lost bags and putting everything back in that tumbled out during his face-to-floor incident. He makes his way up the stairs, carefully avoiding any more boxes (and there’s like, loads of them) and only paying slight attention to the guitar cases leaning against the wall when he finally gets his key into the lock on their door. 

\---

“Did you notice the boxes on your way in?” Michael asks him as he’s entering their flat. He’s sprawled out on the sofa, Xbox controller lazily in one hand. The aliens on the screen seem to get shot on their own accord. Luke dumps the shopping bags onto the messy kitchen counter.

“The boxes?”

“Yeah, did you see them?”

“You’re asking if I noticed the boxes?”

“Yeah, mate, are you not listening to me, that was literally what I was just-“

“Yes, Michael, I have _noticed_ the boxes as they are literally _right in our fucking hallway_. And on the stairs. And in front of our door. What the fuck.”

Michael cackles loudly. “We’re getting a new neighbour. Ten quid says it’s a hot girl.”

Luke huffs disapprovingly. “It’s not a hot girl, Mikey. Not everything in the universe is about hot girls.”

“Hot guy, then.”

“Neither.”

“Ten quid.”

“I’m not betting on the attractiveness of our potential neighbour with you. We could be getting an old lady who knits in her spare time, for god’s sake.”

“Old ladies don’t own that many moving boxes. Ten quid.”

“Alright.” Luke really can’t be dealing with 150 pound of sassy green-haired mess right now.

It makes Luke think, though, as he’s rummaging around in their kitchen, putting all the stuff where it belongs and cleaning up some of the dishes left from yesterday night. It’s probably sort of rude to just ignore the unknown person that is clogging their entire hallway. Should they go say hello? Help them with moving? Maybe bring something? A cake? Are housewarming gifts even socially acceptable for 20-year-old college students? Luke doesn’t know. Michael probably doesn’t know either. Neither of them has ever been any good at encountering new people. Luke tends to get awkward and unconfident, Michael tends to get way too upfront, acting over-confident and sort of mean, really. They don’t really know how to handle this sort of thing. Going downstairs to meet the new person is probably a bad idea.

\---

Ten minutes later, Luke is going downstairs to meet the new person.

He didn’t bring a housewarming gift in the end - mostly because they didn’t have anything besides college textbooks, heaps of empty pizza cartons and dirty laundry in their flat - and is sort of starting to regret his decision as he approaches the door to the previously empty flat directly below them.

Because like, what does he say? Hello? Welcome to the building? Hi, what’s up, I’m Luke Hemmings, sorry I didn’t bring you anything but also you seem to own way too many things already? None of that sounds too good in his head. Just as he’s contemplating going back upstairs and joining Michael for a round of Halo, his train of thought is suddenly interrupted by _uhmmm holy shit is that smoke?!_

After a close examination and coming to the conclusion that yes, indeed, there’s smoke coming out of the cracks in unknown new person’s door, said door is being yanked open and Luke goes momentarily blind (and asthmatic) as a literal cloud of smoke erupts right in his face. When his vision clears again and his lungs don’t feel like they’re about to jump out of his throat anymore, he sees a guy standing in front of him. A very tanned, very toned and very, very shirtless guy. His hair is black with a few strands of blond over his forehead, there is a feather tattooed under his right collarbone and a Roman number under his left. Also, his flat appears to be on fire behind him. Like, literal fire. Coming right out of his living room. Luke is equal parts delighted (the reason being shirtlessness), confused (the reason being fire) and shocked (the reason, again, being _fucking fire what the actual fuck_ ).

“Fire”, he croaks out.

Brilliant first words, really, Hemmo. A+.

Shirtless Guy laughs. “Hello to you, too. To what exactly do I owe the pleasure?”

“No, like. Dude. Your flat is burning. Like, right now.” Luke’s starting to get a bit shaky. (It’s because of the smoke inhalation, he swears. The way Shirtless Guy’s abs flexed while he laughed has got nothing, absolutely _nothing_ to do with it.)

“Amazing observation skills, mate, I’m impressed.” Shirtless Guy gives him a thorough once-over, head to toe, taking in everything from his messy blonde quiff to his lip ring to his Sunday afternoon jogging bottoms. Luke immediately feels like running away (which duh, _fire,_ but that’s not entirely it), like he’s on display and the guy’s deciding whether or not to eat him for dinner, pinning him down with a stare of dark brown eyes. One of the corners of his mouth raises slowly, turning into a broad smile that is unexpectedly sweet, like a puppy that found a new playmate. It’s totally not hot. (Well, _technically_ it is. There’s got to be like a million degrees in here. But you get the point.) Once he’s finished eyeing Luke’s everything, Shirtless Guy turns around on his heels, grabs a fire extinguisher that’s (conveniently? deliberately?) sitting right beside the door and starts shooting white foam at the flames currently licking at his living room furniture. He expertly juggles the can on his shoulders, pointing the hose all over the place efficiently until everything is covered in thick, white foam. When the canister is coming to a sputtering halt, finally giving up on life for good, he throws it into the foamy mess carelessly. Turning around, he finds a very dumbfounded Luke staring at him with his mouth open.

“Dude, your flat was on fire.” he repeats weakly. He knows it’s neither the wittiest nor the smartest thing to say, but his brain sort of decided to give out on him at the sight of a) Shirtless Guy’s sweaty back, b) fire less than sixteen feet away from him and c) the combination of both.

“Again, well spotted, really. Have you ever considered working as a detective?”

“ _Dude_.”

“Yeah alright, so I set the couch on fire for a bit. It was ugly anyways, was the landlord’s. Mine is still down the hallway. What, do you think I’d set my own couch on fire? What are you, crazy?” Luke distinctly remembers an electric green monster of a couch in one corner of their crammed hallway. Michael would have fit in front of that like a fucking chameleon.

Slowly regaining his ability to articulate himself, Luke says, “You set your couch on fire.”

“Yeah.”

“Because you thought it was ugly.”

“Nope.” Shirtless Guy says, popping the P. He’s grinning again, like he’s enjoying Luke’s bewilderment (caused by his apparent ability to use common sense, as opposed to Shirtless Guy) tremendously.

Luke stares.

“I set the couch on fire because I felt like it, fine?”

Oh, yeah. Because that’s the next logical thing to do. Luke is already having an internal rant about the utter stupidity of his new neighbour and the dangers of just randomly starting a fire in your living room _because you felt like it_ , but all that leaves his mouth is a very indifferent “Uhmm?”

Shirtless Guy laughs. “Celebrating a new move and stuff. Fresh start, gotta get rid of the old stuff, just light ‘em up, ya know?”

Luke briefly entertains the thought of making the obvious song reference, just out of habit, but shrugs it off. Too soon for Fall Out Boy, maybe. Hell, he doesn’t even know if the guy’s into that sort of thing at all. He could be into really horrible Mariachi music, for all he knows. (Though judging by his hotness, probably not. Hot people don’t do Mariachi.) But the thought sparks something in Luke: Interest. He doesn’t know the first thing about this guy. Name, age, job, sexual orientation, favourite band? Those are essential things when meeting your new downstairs neighbour. Getting to know the new person is essentially what he came down here for in the first place. Luke cocks his head and looks at Shirtless Guy, who is currently (unsuccessfully) attempting to clean up some of the foam left from the fire extinguisher, and who is also still very chill about the whole thing. Also, still very shirtless.

“What’s your name?”

The guy turns around and throws a grin at him. “ ‘M Calum. You may call me Jack Barakat though. Didn’t get that hair for nothing, you know.”

 _ALL TIME LOW REFERENCE._ Jackpot. Luke may or may not be having an internal freakout.

“I’m Luke. I live upstairs, with Michael. He’s in college with me. I came to say hello and… stuff.” That was four entire sentences, complete with subject, predicate, object. Well done, Lukey, he thinks to himself.

“Nice to meet you, Luke. I’d say take a seat but I sorta don’t have a couch here right now, so.” He smiles sheepishly at him from under his lashes. Damn. Luke didn’t know boys could even _have_ lashes that long.

“So, are you, like… a pyromaniac or something?” he asks.

Calum shakes his head. “Nah, I’m a cheerleader. Also in college, same as you. Hey, maybe we’ll meet some time on campus!” He smiles like he’s been given the best present ever.

Luke stares at him. Is this guy for real?

“No, I mean like… Because you set your couch on fire?”

Calum stills for a second, then laughs. “Oh, right. Yeah. No. I just like fire, I guess. Pyromaniac sounds a bit too crazy, I reckon.” ( _Oh yeah,_ Luke thinks, _because setting things on fire at random is totally not crazy._ ) “Besides, I don’t like to label myself.” He winks at him. Luke can feel his cheeks heat like a rock in the burning desert sun. A rock which he’d very much like to hide under right now.

“I fell over your boxes this morning.” Luke blurts out. _Why._ His desire to go rock-hiding is increasing by the second. Calum merely laughs.

“Oh yeah, sorry ‘bout that. I should probably move them in at some point.”

Luke leans against the doorframe.

“Why do you even own that many things in the first place?” he asks.

“I burn a lot of things, so I buy a lot of things. Makes sense, doesn’t it.” Calum responds.

“It really doesn’t.”

“It really does, princess.”

Luke splutters at the nickname. “Princess?!”

“You’re blonde and pretty and freak out at the tiniest things. It suits you.” Luke wouldn’t exactly call the previously occurred domestic coal a ‘tiny thing’. Wait, what, _pretty_?

This is slowly getting out of hand. Calum is still standing right in front of him like a god descended from the heavens, just looking at him, and Luke is getting hotter by the second and this time he most certainly can’t blame it on anything burning nearby. He needs to be out of here, like, ten minutes ago.

“I… should be going, I guess?” he says and walks back towards the door.

Calum makes no attempts to stop him, merely raises a hand in greeting, and he’s still got that fucking smile on his fucking lips. “I’ll see ya around, cutie.”

Luke runs.

 

\---

When he comes back, Luke makes a beeline straight for the bathroom. A cool, fresh shower and some peace and quiet sounds amazing right now. He’ll need, like, a million showers to get that encounter out of his mind.

(He bats ten dollars in Mikey’s outstretched hand on his way, though. Bastard.)

**Author's Note:**

> Cheers for reading!
> 
> This was inspired by 'Just Me, You And This Box Of Matches' by [tomlinsunshine](http://archiveofourown.org/users/tomlinsunshine) which is rad rad rad and you should totally read it right this second.
> 
> More chapters (this time feat Ash as well) may or may not be added soon. If I have time/am feeling like it. Who knows.
> 
>  
> 
> [shameless self promo](http://pummelstump.tumblr.com) xx


End file.
